


Educational

by Stevieschrodinger



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Cock Rings, Cock Warming, Dom Bucky Barnes, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sub Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29781498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stevieschrodinger/pseuds/Stevieschrodinger
Summary: Steve wonders, not for the first time while he’s been waiting, how he ends up in these situations.Well, he knows.  He knows exactly how he gets into these situations.Bucky tells him to do something, and he does it.  Behaving like the biddable golden retriever Bucky often compares him to.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 8
Kudos: 124





	Educational

Steve wonders, not for the first time while he’s been waiting, how he ends up in these situations.

Well, he knows. He knows exactly how he gets into these situations.

Bucky tells him to do something, and he does it. Behaving like the biddable golden retriever Bucky often compares him to. 

Bucky said strip, so Steve did. Earnestly, instantly, and pretty much without question. Bucky said sit, so he did.

And he’s still sitting here. In the middle of the sofa. Bare ass naked. Bucky had placed a bottle of lube and a pack of baby wipes on the seat next to Steve. Before he’d swanned out, he’d told Steve very firmly not to move, and not to touch. Steve had watched as Bucky’s nipped in waist and pert ass had disappeared through the bedroom door. 

He’s not totally up to date on modern day slang, but he knows what he is for Bucky. Thirsty. Really, really fucking thirsty.

He didn’t tell him what not to touch, so Steve assumed he wasn’t allowed to touch anything, his hands have remained balled up and resting on the sofa, either side of his thighs.

His cock had started to chub the second Bucky had told him to strip. Half hard by the time Bucky had put down the lube and the baby wipes where he could see them. Taunting him.

It’s been twenty minutes since then, and Steve’s only just heard the shower stop.

He’d been staring at himself, reflected in the darkness of the television, and his dick had gone to sleep. He’d given the apartment the once over. Bucky’s bag and jacket left carelessly on the armchair, a couple of text books next to it. Bucky’s a clever guy, Steve always knew that, but didn’t realize just how intelligent until Tony actually recognized his name and immediately started trying to poach him for SI. Steve rolls his eyes at the memory, and his reflection in the T.V does the same. That’d been the first time Bucky had met The Avengers, and it wasn’t long before Tony got bored and Steve lost his boyfriend to Bruce for the rest of the evening. 

But then he sees the lube again, and his cock perks right back up. Now he's imagining Bucky in the shower, and gets harder.

Now he’s thinking about Bucky drying his lithe body. It’s not helping considering he doesn’t know how long he’s going to have to sit here like this. He doesn’t feel exposed, exactly. He knows Jarvis isn’t watching 'Watching'. Knows he’s alone other than Bucky. But there’s something about being told what to do. About Bucky exerting his control over Steve even when he isn't here.

Even though he runs hot, Steve still shivers. He sits patiently, staring at the half open bedroom door. Waiting like that big friendly golden retriever. Waiting faithfully for Bucky to come back.

Steve has no idea what Bucky’s doing, but it feels like another twenty minutes before he reappears in the doorway. Steve’s throat clicks dry when he swallows at the sight of him.

Bucky’s wearing goddamn Captain America merch.

The socks are white, thigh high. And they are covered in a repeating pattern of tiny captain America shields. The hoodie is printed to look like the original uniform, all bright primary patriotism. When Bucky gets closer, he does a little turn, and there’s Steve’s shield, printed huge, as if Bucky’s wearing it on his back. It’s a cool hoodie, Steve’s never seen one before. It falls to Bucky’s thighs, the sleeves long enough to cover his fingertips.

“What do you think?”

“Looks real good, Buck.” Steve’s voice already sounds raspy, and his dick is definitely saluting the uniform.

“I got it for you,” he grins, knowing Steve would never wear anything of the sort, “but then I thought it might look better on me.”

“Think you’re right, Buck.”

Bucky hums speculatively, giving Steve the once over.

He sidles over to Steve, then leans over, giving him one soft, close mouthed kiss, before he kneels between Steve’s thighs, his narrow shoulders slotting there easily. All Bucky has to do is lean forward a little, and he’s able to softly lick the drop of pre come already sitting in the slit of Steve’s dick.

Steve groans, staring at Bucky’s face, the flat of his tongue, the deliberately salacious way he pulls it back into his mouth and hums at the taste. His fists ball tighter on the cushions of the sofa, desperately wanting to reach out and touch. But he doesn’t. He’s been told not to.

“I was hoping you’d be a little calmer for this, but you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t make things difficult for yourself.” Steve didn’t see it at first, Bucky’s hands hidden in his sleeves, but Bucky produces a cock ring as he reaches for the lube, “oh well, I’m sure we’ll manage.”

It’s a bit of a process, Bucky using lube to ease the way and he slides the ring down Steve’s dick. He holds the head firmly in one hand and relentlessly strokes with the other, pushing the ring down a little further each time. 

By the time it’s seated at the base of Steve’s cock, it’s angry red and Steve’s squirming in the seat, “color baby?”

“Green,” Steve doesn’t even need to think about it, happy with the proceedings thus far. Bucky hums again, an agreeable noise, as he wipes his hands on a baby wipe, discarding it on the sofa until later.

"And what do you say if it's too much?"

"Yellow for slow down, red for stop," Bucky smiles at him, pleased.

“Get me ready then, Captain.” And Bucky hitches the bottom of the hoodie up, bends over and rests both palms on the coffee table. 

All the air rushes out of Steve’s lungs, Bucky’s not wearing anything other than the hoodie and the socks. His pert, perfect ass wriggles in front of Steve, and he takes the instructions to heart, grabbing the lube and slicking up two fingers.

He only touches with one, at first. Carefully circling before pressing in. Bucky presses back on a low exhale, both of them knowing each other well enough to trust. To work well together.

A few slow thrusts and Bucky’s ready for the next, so Steve gives it to him, only withdrawing his fingers a few minutes later to slick them again and add a third. Steve stretches his fingers apart gently, working Bucky open. He doesn’t seek to pleasure him or overtly do anything over and above his appointed task. When Bucky deems himself ready, he withdraws his fingers and slicks up his own cock, wiping his fingers on a baby wipe.

“Legs together baby, slouch down a little,” even now, Bucky calling him baby makes him squirm inside. Makes him feel vulnerable, younger, cared for, not the man who’s been through what Steve has. Steve loves it. And when it comes to Bucky, he can actually follow an order.

Bucky fidgets with him, doesn’t actually move Steve much, and couldn’t anyway, if Steve doesn’t want to be moved, but Steve loves it anyway, doing exactly what Bucky wants just at the touch of his fingertips, not having to think anywhere past the next instruction.

Bucky turns his back again, and when he wriggles himself into position, Steve puts gentle hands on his hips, just to guide him. Bucky allows the touch, and lowers himself, inch by inch onto Steve’s cock, reaching through his own legs to keep it steady. He sinks down all the way, until his ass is nestled into the cradle of Steve’s hips, then leans back against Steve’s chest, releasing a massive sigh as he does.

They both take a deep breath, Steve enjoying the way Bucky's back expands against his chest with the breath, the tight hot clutch of Bucky’s body on his cock. His hands lift instinctively to wrap Bucky up.

“Ah ah, baby,” Steve doesn’t know how Bucky manages to sound so reprimanding, especially considering he’s just stuffed himself full of Steve, but he does it. Bucky arranges himself, flopping his legs outside of Steve’s to hang down either side, relaxed, “you can rest your hands on my thighs, but only if you’re good for me, hmmm?”

“I’ll be good.” The answer is as instinctive as everything else.

Bucky snorts, “I’m sure you’ll try.” Steve rests his hands on Bucky's thighs, “don’t move them unless I ask you baby, okay?”

“I won’t, sir.” It’s incongruous, considering how much smaller than Steve Bucky is, but his personality is so much bigger than himself. He’d never be able to physically restrain Steve, even if Steve was just a normal guy. On the occasions when Bucky does restrain him with rope or silk ribbons, they both know it’s only for show, Steve could break out in a New York minute. But that’s not what it’s about. Steve is making the choice to do as Bucky says. And he loves it. Love the release. The time off from his own mind. His only concern is doing what Bucky wants, revels in the feeling of having done a good job for Bucky. Making him happy. 

Bucky turns a little, giving Steve a peck of a kiss, “so good baby,” then he turns back again, wriggling a little, settling his back flush against Steve’s chest again, getting himself comfortable. Steve wonders where this is going, the heat of Bucky’s body is perfect, but now he’s desperate to just move. To start thrusting, and he will struggle to do that and follow Bucky’s instructions.

“Jarvis, play the movie.”

And now Steve knows what’s happening. Steve bites his own lip to stop the groan escaping, he knows if he complains, Bucky will just drag it out even more.

The movie rolls, and then Steve does groan. Bucky only chuckles.

“Come on baby, you might learn a thing or two. It’ll be educational. Besides, I have no idea who that is, but he looks hot as fuck in your uniform.”

Steve’s gotta concede the guy does look pretty good in Steve's uniform, all broad shouldered and skinny waisted, bottle blonde hair and perfect blue eyes. All the Captain America movies are trope filled and trite, and this one is already shaping up to be no different.

The special effects are pretty good though, the movie opening on an epic battle with some aliens. On screen, Captain America manages to get the shield to ricochet of no less than six separate targets before it flies back to his hand.

Steve humphs, unimpressed, Bucky giggles in his lap.

Steve actually gets a little sucked in, strangely horrified and yet fascinated at the same time. Like picking a scab. They’ve made Hawkeye totally smooth, exuding a swarve confidence that the real Clint Barton couldn’t produce if his life depended on it. Steve thinks of that very morning when he tipped over his bowl of cereal, and in trying to save it, knocked over his coffee instead.

Suspiciously enough, there is no Back Widow, no mention of Natasha at all, but movie Steve’s ‘call me Agent’ sidekick is a very attractive red head in a very tight leather catsuit.

“Think she’ll turn out to be the love interest?”

Steve sighs, “probably.”

“Think they had to grease her to get her into the get up?”

“Uhm...I’ll ask Nat?”

Bucky full belly laughs at that, causing him to shift in Steve’s lap, muscles contracting and shifting. Steve can’t help it, his fingers try to clench, digging a little into Bucky’s thighs, groaning as the movement gives him a little friction, and Bucky’s body clenches down on his own.

They settle down again, sitting for a few more minutes before Bucky must get bored, he puts his hand out flat, “lube me.”

Steve dutifully squeezes a dollop onto Bucky’s palm before flicking the cap shut and returning his hand to it’s allotted space. Bucky’s pulled up the edge of the hoodie to reveal his erection, and Steve completely looses interest in the movie.

Bucky’s attention still appears to be on the screen, and he spreads lube across his erection before he gently starts to work himself. His movements are slow, but firm. He’s definitely working with intent, and, thanks to experience, Steve can tell how much progress he’s making by how firmly and how often Bucky’s ass muscles twitch on his cock.

The closer Bucky gets, the faster he works his hand, the tighter he squeezes down on Steve. The longer the pulses last. It’s torture that feels incredible, and Steve’s panting into Bucky’s ear without having moved an inch.

Bucky groans, “I love you cock Steve, love coming when I’m stuffed full of you, feels incredible.” Steve’s hands twitch on Bucky’s thighs, desperate to move, He can feel the muscles twitching under his hands as Bucky gets closer.

It feels to Steve like Bucky’s ass is milking his cock, he’s hard as iron inside Bucky’s body, the cockring just making everything more intense. He knows if he could see his cock now, the head would be purple and leaking. Steve is desperate to move, to shift, to thrust into the pulsing wet heat that’s gripping at his flesh. He’d dig his fingernails in but he can’t even do that.

He grinds his teeth, biting at his lip desperate to find some control somewhere. And then Bucky tenses up, squeezing him in a vice, hips wriggling in his lap. Bucky’s other hand pulls the edge of the hoodie right up, so that he doesn’t get any semen on it, and he comes. Stripes his own stomach with it and all Steve can do is watch. Bucky makes the sexiest, whining moan as he comes all over himself.

Bucky falls back, relaxed again, panting against Steve, “wouldn’t want to make a mess of this hoodie, you wouldn’t believe how expensive your merch is. Clean me up baby.”

Steve grabs a few wet wipes, clumsy and one handed, out of the packet, and wipes up the mess streaked across Bucky’s abdomen, before tugging one gently over his softening cock. Bucky hisses, but drops the edge of the hoodie back down to cover himself. He turns, brushing a quick kiss on Steve’s cheek, “thank you baby. Perfect for me.”

Bucky’s words make Steve’s head feel light, treacle spreading out in his stomach. The knowledge that he’s just being used for Bucky’s pleasure...just has to sit here and be used. It’s doing things to Steve. His brain has slowly fallen quieter and quieter over the last half an hour, and if it wasn’t for the throbbing ache in his cock, Steve would be totally relaxing into this. Unfortunately, the quiet emptiness of his mind means there’s lots of room for him to be completely absorbed in the feeling of his cock inside of Bucky's tight heat.

Bucky seems content to settle again, happily watching as one of the scientists is revealed to be a shape changing alien bad guy. Shocker.

Steve, meanwhile, is slowly vibrating out of his skin with the need to move. He’d been relatively fine before Bucky put on his little show. Just about managing, knowing that all he has to do is sit here until the end of he movie. Focused on sitting through it, just getting to the end. He had a goal.

Now he’s minutely aware of the movement of Bucky breathing. Aware of the material of the thigh high socks under his fingertips, of the heat of Bucky’s skin beneath it. Of Bucky’s every tiny shift. Anything that might give Steve even a tiny bit of friction. Bucky tensing on Steve’s cock as he came was perfection for his starving dick, and yet also no where near what he needed. Steve is hyper aware of the pressure the cock ring is applying. He’s tries to control his breathing. Tries to focus on something else, anything else. Nothing works. His otherwise empty floating brain completely consumed with just this. Bucky seeming totally oblivious is somehow just adding insult to the injury of Steve’s mounting discomfort. Bucky being so openly not bothered is making it a hundred times worse. 

He bites his lip again, determined not to whimper even though he can feel the noise forming in his chest.

“You know, this guy is just doing it for me, I think I can go again.” Bucky puts his palm out flat again, expectant. Steve has to screw his eyes shut for a second so he doesn’t cry.

He obediently squeezes another dollop of lube into Bucky’s waiting palm, and the whole hellish thing starts all over again.

Bucky’s only been going a couple of minutes, idly teasing the head of his cock, his ass muscles tensing against Steve’s lap where he’s occasionally squeezing at Steve’s cock, and then Steve fucks up.

It’s not even a thrust, not really, but he’s so desperate to move, so desperate for release, to thrust, desperate for anything, that his thighs and ass tense completely without his permission. It’s really not even a thrust, just a little press upward of his hips, a tiny shift in angle, but Bucky feels it, and stills completely.

“Steve?”

Steve’s voice comes out whiny and broken and worn sounding without him even having done anything, “I’m sorry! I’ll be good!”

“Uh hu. Hands on the sofa. Only good boys get to touch.”

Steve obediently moves his hands, it’s a blessing though, because now he can dig his fingernails into his palms and at least distract himself a little. He mourns the feeling of Bucky’s socks though, Bucky’s warmth, of being able to feel the little tremors in his muscles as he tenses up.

“Jarvis, how many Captain America movies are there?”

“Counting all productions in which the character Captain America appears, there are twenty three that have been released in theaters.”

“Plenty to choose from then, if we need to watch another.”

Steve can’t help groaning at the threat, his head falling forward a moment, forehead resting against Bucky’s shoulder. Deep breath. He can do this. He can be good for Bucky.

“I know you can be good for me, hhhhm?” Steve hadn't even realized he'd given his pep talk out loud.

“Yes sir,” Steve’s voice is a broken croak.

“Good boy, be still and let me use you.”

Steve’s head thumps back against the sofa, “ah! no, come on baby, watch the movie with me, I think you’re gonna save the world. Again.”

Steve pulls his head up again, blinking at the screen, but other than a wash of colors and movement, he’s not taking it in, can’t focus at all.

This time he’s acutely aware of Bucky's wriggling and tensing. Can feel the tightening in his thighs. The way the muscle in his ass tighten and relax rhythmically in the seat of Steve’s pelvis. Can just about filter Bucky’s breathy moans from over the sounds of the movie. This is absolute torture, the pressure of the cock ring relentless.

Bucky still hasn’t come. Steve blinks, watching, realizing that Bucky’s not even trying to. He’s rubbing the palm of his hand gently across the head of his cock, then moving to squeeze at the shaft. Maybe the occasional stroke, then a squeeze at the base. His cock is swollen, leaking pre come that Bucky smears around himself. Steve can’t look away. Bucky's just teasing himself. 

Like he knows that Steve is staring down over Bucky’s shoulder, he turns and kisses Steve’s cheek, “see something you like, baby?”

Steve doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nods.

“You want to fuck me now? The movie's over, you did so good for me.”

Steve’s eyes flick up, a black background with scrolling white text. The end credits.

Steve’s brain stalls for a second before he manages to force out a broken sounding, “please.”

“And you’ve remembered your manners, just perfect aren't you?”

Bucky leans forward extricating himself carefully from Steve’s cock. He stands there for a second, bent over, showing Steve his hole, all open and shining. As Steve watches a thin trail of something clear seeps out and drips down Bucky’s taint and off his balls. His own pre come, Steve whines at the realization.

Bucky stands, walking to the bedroom, “you can take it off if you want to.”

Steve finally looks down at his own dick. It’s angry, so flushed it looks sore. Painful. And the whole thing is shiny wet, leaking pre come, some even pooling in the dip where his thigh meets his body. It’s a painful release working the ring off. Like pressing fingers into a bad bruise and let letting go. Lucky his cock is so slick, otherwise he might have lost his temper and snapped the damn thing off, regardless of if that would have hurt him or not.

He follows Bucky into the bedroom, painfully hard cock bumping against his own abs as he strides across the room. Bucky’s stationed himself in the middle of the bed, flat on his back, thighs spread, ass pointed towards the door so Steve sees everything the second he’s in the room. The hoodie is rucked up to show off Bucky’s flat stomach, and those white thigh high socks accentuating Bucky's long, slender legs, highlighting his olive skin tone. 

It’s the hottest thing Steve’s ever seen, and they are going to talk later about Bucky wearing thigh high socks more often. All the time. Every time. 

Steve doesn't waste a second, crawling up and onto Bucky, tucking his hips under and sliding into Bucky's body, even as Bucky’s lifting his legs to wrap around Steve’s thighs. Bucky’s hole is slick and open and perfect, and Steve slides in easily. It’s overwhelming after that minute apart, and he feels like he’s complete again, coming home.

Getting the thing he needs from Bucky.

Even in his addled state he he makes eye contact with Bucky. His abs and thighs shaking, but needing to check that it's okay to move, “go on baby, take what you need.”

And Steve does. Bucky’s fingernails dig into his shoulders, one of his heels pressing into Steve’s ass. There’s no build up, Bucky loose and wet and perfect and Steve jack hammers into him like his life depends on it. One of Steve’s hands migrates to Bucky’s ass, lifting it, holding it to his body, finding a better angle. The other grips Bucky’s shoulder, pulling him bodily down onto Steve’s cock, to meet his thrusts, to stop Steve from shifting them both up the bed.

Bucky’s moaning and crying beneath him, hissing ‘yes’ and ‘baby’ and ‘oh god’ and ‘fuck don’t stop’ in a mad litany that’s driving Steve on. 

Bucky arches, stomach pressing hard against Steve’s, his hot, wet cock trapped between them, Bucky screaming now ‘theretheretherethererightthere’, nails scrabbling against Steve’s shoulders, the material of the sock’s rubbing against Steve’s thighs and hips as Bucky tries to scissor his legs and then the hot wet splash of come between them. The relentless squeeze of Bucky’s orgasming body pulsing brutally on Steve’s cock even as he moves faster, desperate, almost going numb with it, forcing his orgasm, almost painful and then...the release. The long, drawn out orgasm after being hard for so long, the sheer, all encompassing relief of it. Grinding his come as deep as he can into Bucky, panting and shaking and only just at the last second falling a little to the side so he doesn’t crush his boyfriend beneath him.

Steve doesn’t know how long he’s been flaked out in the middle of the bed, but he starts and gives a little shudder when the warm flannel wipes across his abs and the gently over his cock. A moment later he’s being nudged, and he lifts his head a little obligingly as a straw is pressed to his lips. It’s apple juice today, and he drains the carton in one pull. With Bucky’s soft words, he drinks a second in a few more controlled gulps.

He’s only vaguely aware of the blanket being pulled up over them, still splayed out in the middle of the bed, and Bucky curling up, half on Steve’s chest. It’s the easiest thing in the word for Steve to gather him up in his arms as he starts to drift off again.

“You okay baby?”

Steve manages a positive sounding noise.

“Enjoy yourself?” Steve cracks an eye at that, looking down, and Bucky laughs, loud and happy. “Sleep, Jarvis will wake us, dinner’s at six.” Steve had forgotten it was team dinner night, Bucky’s got a standing invitation, so he will go and hang out with the Avenger’s later with Steve. “Definitely wearing my new hoodie to dinner.”

Steve’s groan is loud and pained.


End file.
